Help Me To Forget
by mercurial2010
Summary: Graphic cannon-PWP. The later-that-night dalliances post "police station". What happens after Syed asks to be invited back to Christian's. Three chapters - complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** the late night dalliances post police station, Sy gives Christian a helping hand.  
><strong>Contains:<strong> Graphic sex  
><strong>Episode References:<strong> Post "Are you going to invite me home?" after Syed waits for Christian outside the police station.  
><strong>AN:** Right so it's been a very long time since I've been anywhere near Chryed so forgive me if this really doesn't tally with their characters. But I seem to be falling back in love with them again, it must be Johnny's muscles! So this is my poor attempt at trying to write them again, in my comfort territory which is, as always, v.v.v. m. There's three chapters, Reviews are love.

**Disclaimer:** This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.

X _ X

"Touch me," I press the request as a kiss onto the smooth crook of his neck.

"Touch me," I pledge a moan as his parting thighs accept me.

"Touch me," I entice as my teeth make their way along the rigid sweet spot of his ear to his everlasting sigh.

'I don't want…' he starts, attempting to pull away but ever fearful of his departure my fingernails dig desperate to his scalp.

"Christian, I…" he breaks away as I lead a wayward hand of his to its destination. "I don't want to hurt you."

Drooping eyelashes hide guilt-ridden eyes as though he fully intended the double meaning. His finger against my bruised cheek maps a curve of the meaning I have to forget.

"You won't," I promise - an answer to both.

Leaning forward I fix him with my best gaze.

"Touch me," I whisper, one final time, purposefully low.

His caress is the answer he gives, one hand maps slowly up my spine. Each one of my hair follicles dissolve his presence and they spark as if finally allowed to trust once again. My tongue plies hungry lips open and his fingernails dent my biceps, gripping us together. I lave across his teeth and his cock shudders heat against mine. Then his hands lay to rest in my favourite place, against my arse, pulling my groin closer to his.

I don't know how we got here, it seems only a short time ago that he demanded my touch never to seek him, his words of disgust are etched too firmly across my heart. But then, of course, he waited shyly outside the police station. That hellish place I would have only gone to for him, so that he could keep up his boyish belief of the protectors of good and evil. His shuffled feet led to a plea made with darkened eyes. After that - after he had followed me home, how could my mouth not seek his - when his is the finest taste I have witnessed. How could I not lead him to my bed - when it is as though my sheets have waited for the presence of his body.

Bringing my lips from his skin I pledge a request my breath waits for.

"Take your clothes off."

There is a miniscule pause that lasts forever until his body shifts from my bed, and with his back to me he removes his shirt and then ever so slowly his jeans. My eyes consume the way his lithe muscles shine from the evening glow and the heated trail of passion.

He turns. Quickly my eyes map his body, slide down the finesse of his chest, the curve in his boxers. His eyes stay fixated to the floor and I question, not for the first time, how anyone with such a body could feel so shy.

"You're beautiful," I whisper.

His eyes whip to mine, in them painted the memory of when we were last like this. Leaning toward him I place a hand against his quivering stomach. My desire catches on his trapped breath. My fingers slide down his smooth torso, teasing the skin that his boxers meet.

'These might get in the way - don't you think?' My voice dips low, my entire body desperate to touch him.

His jaw tightens before he nods once and lowers the cotton down his legs.

As he stands again, his eyes search mine - desperate for approval, terrified of rejection. How could the sight of him like this make me anything but desperate for him? How could the sight of his large, hard cock make him less than exquisite?

"Fuck, I want you." In a quick exhale I tell him how much my body senses his, craving to erase all doubt.

Taking his hand I pull him to me and his body curves once again around mine. My thigh wraps over his hip. A sharp suck of breath is drawn and I know he's relishing the thrill of his heated sensitised cock against the coarseness of taut denim. I rub my thigh against him and he moans in libidinous need, his eyes slamming shut. His nails grip my hips and I breath past the shot of pain. In the way that he denies my escape and in the warning of his eyes I find my fantasies.

I force his kiss as his cock rubs against the muscles in my thigh. As I part his lips he moans long and hard into my mouth. Eventually he breaks away, desperate for breath.

"I, I want to see you."

Fear numbs my movements as I question if the way that I am today could be good enough for him. Would a body this bruised make me loose him? Now I have him wrapped in our fire I can't risk a single moment of doubt.

"Are you sure?" I ask, moving once more against him in a daring plea, "Tell me this doesn't feel good."

"Christian," he moans breathless. "Please. I…_need…._to see you."

An unsaid adoration sits in his lust-blown eyes as his gaze fixes against the last inch of skin he can see.

"Please?" He asks as his gaze meets mine through thick eyelashes. His eyes are ebony - he is ignited.

I sigh, swallowing, preparing myself for the certain loss of him as I give him what he wants - tarnished as it is my body will surely repulse him.

I lie back aside him as my eyes fix the ceiling preparing to undo the buttons of my shirt.

His hands hold mine as he places a sweet, almost chaste, kiss against my lips,

"Let me?"

Confusion sits in the furrow of my brow as wayward thought drifts - his voice is different. He counts in a sigh as my buttons slip through their cotton holds. A daft calmness drifts through me as I realise the usual hesitation in his darkened tones has fled with honest reassurance as its replacement.

He hooks his calf over my thigh, sitting astride me. His hands map the contours of my chest, my shirt lying half undone, closed just to the darkest bruise. As his fingers dip into my collar bone his eyes map my skin and drink in every heartbeat. Through lowered eyelashes I gaze at him. I can't quite believe the control in his posture as he presses me onto the mattress; or the willingness of his movements as his fingers sink through the sprinkling of hair against my chest. The slowness in his controlled movements shows me that what this is, this act, is more than just lust-fuelled craze. A simple thought lodges itself forever inside my doubt - he wants to be here.

His dark eyes sparkle as he finds mine locked upon them. He leans forward and his parted lips reward mine, once, twice. Soft and slow, the taste of us echoing through me.

Pulling away, his fingers hover over the last few buttons that hide the mark against my hip. I grit my teeth, preparing for the disgust that will surely show in his eyes.

As predicted emotion changes the moment my shirt lies open. But as I study him, I know the look in his eyes is so far removed from the one anticipated.

"Syed" his name falls from my lips, as I see what can only be a feeling of guilt.

I place my fingers against his, on the edges of my open shirt. He dips his head, his eyes closing.

"Sy" I soften his name to our endearment "look at me?"

I wait an enduring moment until his dark eyes look into mine, ashamed. My hand cups his cheek, my thumb looping his ear.

"Sy, none of this is your fault," I promise.

His eyes narrow briefly, questioning how I could have read him so easily and then a sigh releases from his lips.

"You said that we were the same, me and that bloke I mean."

His words come out so small that I'm filled with sharp regret at the acidity of my tongue in the humiliation of a second. My hand traces a path against his arm, trying to pledge an apology.

"I was…angry. You are _nothing_ like him."

"But if I hadn't…" he starts, but his words die.

"If you hadn't pushed me away? Syed it was your…" my lips refuse to say the words. edging away from memories that would surely break the moment. "I shouldn't have been there. And anyway it was my stupid fault for inviting that prick back here. I can't believe how much of a fool I was, I knew there was something…" my words come strangled in my fury, they're cooled by a simple phrase.

"You can't blame yourself Christian."

I sigh, my eyes close - I do. I blame no-one but me. I've been here before and I swore then that nothing like this would ever happen again. With my chest bruised in agony, and my eye showcasing the prize fool that I am, I still know it could have been so much worse. It doesn't matter how many people tell me that it wasn't my fault or that it could have happened to anybody - _it didn't happen to them_. Anyway those stock phrases don't mask the pain of my broken pride, or deafen the sound of his foot against my rib. This was my fault. My stupid, drunken mistake.

Warm lips press against my hip, to the side of the worst bruise and the torn skin is lathed by a soft tongue. A shuddering breath releases from my lips. I am forced away from pained wounds and carried away in passion - in the presence of Syed. His mouth circles around my agony as he anchors me to the moment. The sense of him reverberates through every pore: the taste of our desire-filled kisses linger against my tongue. His scent melds with mine in the summers air. His smooth heated weight pushes me into the silk of my sheets. My cock, which had cooled in the remembered nightmare, swells, as his lips slowly tend to my torso.

"What are you doing?" I ask, the words barely formed behind my rapidly beating lust.

"Kissing it better," he breathes each word against my skin and offers me a new memory, circles me with comforting consuming desire.

_A few calculated steps and I'm in his air. He's so close to me I can practically taste him. I wonder if he knows how little that white top does to cover his perfect torso. I wonder whether, when he chose to wear it, he knew he was coming to see me and that I would be able to do little but imagine it on my bedroom floor._

_"That's a nasty bruise" He breathes between dark shaking lips._

_Confidence seeps through me as I note his barely hidden yearning._

_"Are you going to kiss it better?"_

"I didn't want to leave," Syed breaths. His lips now against the bruise on my cheek. "I really wanted to…." He sighs, letting the unsaid words lay between us coated in desire. "Don't you see that's why I had…"

I don't let him say it. I much prefer the ending I was painting in my head - our passion slowly erasing the pain of his parting shot. I grip my nails into his hair, pulling his mouth to mine. Sucking his bottom lip between my teeth. He keens loudly. I leave one hand against his head denting his scalp, travel the other down the swell of his back. I cup the silkend skin of his naked arse and tilt his groin into mine.

A thrill trembles through him, our lips part and gazes connect. His eyes, hard shards of desire, look deep into mine.

My voice comes in a whisper, "I told you, with me, you can do _anything_ you want to do."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much for the comments and all the "favourites" so lovely to be welcomed backs by you guys.

A very wise person ;) once told me that you should never close a chapter in the middle of sex however I was worried about the word count on this and on reading it back it was blatantly calling out for a chapter break at the end so I gave it one, hope no-one thinks that was a bad move…

Also my desire to write dominant Syed tried to wrestle with me at the end here and I almost let it win, sorry about that! Hopefully keeps with the realism for you all.

X_X

A thrill trembles through him, our lips part and gazes connect. His eyes, hard shards of desire, look deep into mine.

_My voice comes in a whisper, "I told you, with me, you can do anything you want to do."_

His lips shiver struggling for breath.

His eyes spark a fire at my words.

Impulsively, wildly, he ruts against me, letting me know exactly what it is he wants to do.

My breath traps at his unbridled lust and that's when he kisses me - taking my oxygen into him. His hands press my zip, curl around my belt. The shake of his fingers reverberate against my sensitised cock, his hesitation driving my mind to playful insanity. I taste his sigh of frustration as his uncertain fingers fumble. He pulls away to carefully watch his hands' work. I capture him inside my kiss once again, teasing, now knowing for certain how much of me he wants.

Loosing him in our taste I trace my hands across the silken valley of his back, matching each dip with a curve of a finger. I travel the globes of his gorgeous arse, moving down to his wanton sigh. In one moment he shows me how much he has craved my touch by bending and flexing with the time of my fingers. In the next he tries to pull away from me to continue his mission. He writhes over me, his cock canting against mine as my hands enjoy their act of desirous torture.

Eventually he pulls away from my kiss, his open mouth sliding to my neck, never abandoning me. The silk of his hair lies over my cheek, surrounding me in the sensation of him.

"Christian," in protest my name is exhaled amongst heat against my skin.

"What?" I tease, my finger now tracing air around his arse. I feel his teeth take hold of his lip in response to my touch.

"I'm trying…" he coughs away the erotic tension in his voice, "I want to…undo…"

"Yeah?" I test the depth of his craze, pressing further against him.

"I'm trying to take off your belt," he releases in one long exhalation, I couldn't have asked for more than the fire in his voice.

"Oh," I let go in one breath as my finger slides easily into him. "OK then."

I feel his breath pause as my touch coats him in our desire. I sense him swallow hard against my chest.

"It would be a lot easier if you would _stop_ moving!" He moans.

"Would it? If I just stop moving? Well I suppose that's only fair…" I flirt as I prepare for the next stage of our game. I bend my finger just right, instinctively knowing his greatest pleasure. The suck of breath signifies his prostate and his cock throbs against me. "Like that?"

An ardent heated chuckle from his lips reverberates against my elated breaths.

He tilts his head to rest his chin against my chest. Eye contact blazes. "You know what I mean."

His tongue dances magically around his lips as his brown world glows and his lips curve - thought clearly present. Then his eyes drop, covered by magically dark eyelashes and he looks up at me from beneath them.

His eyes are flashes of gold beneath dark softness.

"Please?" He sings and I know right then that I would do anything for that look.

He beams when he knows he has won, for now.

I move slowly away from him. My arms flex above my head, my biceps tighten, I give him my best sex face.

"Thank you," he smiles eventually.

"My pleasure," I raise an expectant eyebrow.

He secretly smiles softly. His eyes trail down to his hands, paused together against the leather. Time is still as I am absorbed inside his hunger, the longing shake in his hands' undressing me. I lift my hips slightly to aid him and any pain caused is imperceptible as his fingers grip lust into my arse.

A gaze is flashed against the width of my body, his hands drop and his lips tighten. Deep breathes are forced. His darkened world concentrates on my bed-sheets as, blind, he removes my boxers. He swallows hard.

"Better?" I flirt, but he stays frozen and I know he needs more of me to stay lost.

"Kiss me," I demand.

A little afraid in desperate desire he unites our gaze.

His lips crash against mine, hard and brutal. The sensitivity in my bottom lip flares. There's anger against his taste. In a flash I gain a simple understanding of what it's like to be him, so enraged at wanting and needing a simple touch, even in this taste of perfection he knows guilt will be the inescapable aftertaste. I would do anything to show him that there is nothing more perfect or pure than this - the sensation of two heated bodies. The feeling of carnality.

I lace soothing fingers through his hair determined to keep my kiss soft and slow until he finds that place where it's just us. In this moment it should be just me and him, no aughts or shoulds, just desperate never-ending need.

His hips stay boxed and frozen over mine. His kiss is bitter for heart shuddering minutes. I run my finger along the back of his ear and he lets out an impulsive moan - there's almost pain within it. I think of telling him to stop, that if it hurts this much to be with me then he should just stop. But just as the words paint my tongue he relaxes into me, his hips leaning against me, his cock swelling against my own. I swallow back my heart's jump.

Unhurried, our kiss turns to soft and slow tastes of pleasure and desire. A touch of silk. Parted lips and deep sighs slide between skin and tongue.

He slowly lifts away from me, darkened eyes connecting to me once more, before painting a downwards trail of fire. A deep breath is drawn as he takes in our cocks, his gaze almost burning as he studies us. When he greets my gaze his eyes are golden once more, finally nothing but us and our magic in his mind.

His gaze maps my face, and then as if remembering for the first time he exhales swiftly.

"I hurt you." A comforting finger trails the base of my still stinging lip.

I trap his hand in my own, I won't deny the depth of my desire for him, that trivial pain doesn't matter as long as I get to have him in my embrace. I can't hide the fact that I've never been in this far.

"I promised you, you wouldn't."

I lean up for his kiss, expecting soft and slow caresses, worried and hesitant. He counters with more hunger than I've ever felt, desire wrapping us tightly together. He presses his hands into my shoulders, as in avidity he pushes me into the bed. His cock slides against mine, at first uncertainly, teasingly testing before he can trust my passion and slicked with our precome our intense cocks mate.

Desperate I pull away from him, heavy breaths escape my lips.

"Syed, I have to have you." I breath so rough it tastes like an expletive.

His eyes widen for a shuddering moment. I panic that I've lost him again. But then his smile grows wide, accepting. His hand presses against my chest, over my heart, sliding up to cup my chin.

"What about…isn't it going to hurt you?" He hesitates.

My hand curves the softness of his cheek, investigating the stubble. My thumb, running across his mouth, replaces the worried tension with a smile.

"Follow my lead?" I ask and he nods slowly.

"Lie on your side."

He lies with his back to me. I take a moment to study him, knowing for certain I have never had anything so perfect between my sheets. His hair lays mussed from my hands, his nails flexing with desire into the feather pillow. His fingers worry the edge of my sheet, attempting modesty against his libidinous desire. His golden back arches towards mine and his feet find touch against my calves. I press my lips to his shoulder, curving my hand against his chest bone.

His eyes are shut, tightening as my hand travels down past the barrier of the sheet - towards his need. I allow my fingers to make the most desired contact, for a second, before moving away against his hip. I know that as soon as we reunite I will loose myself within him and I have to make sure he's right at that place too. An almost imperceptible growl is emitted from those gorgeous shaking lips at the loss of me. In an apology I suck against the skin of his shoulder bone, lathing and soothing, promising better to come.

As I settle upon a plan I can't help the smile that presses my lips, his reaction last time filled my dreams nightly. My hands move to his abs testing his desire filled tension. I trace my open mouth down his back, savouring the way our passion changes his taste. I move slowly down the bed, my tongue pressing against the ridges of his spine, until his taste gets darker and headier. His muscles tense, his breathing becomes erratic. He knows.

I map my touch down his hip, sliding between his thighs, cocking his leg as I remind him to open for me. I place my hands against the soft curve of his arse. Bending forward I test his desire, pursing my lips and blowing within, watching his arse ripple at the soft contact. I press my tongue against the very ridge of him. His breath comes so fast, his body heating as his blood pounds throughout him. I quicken the pace and immerse myself within. Capturing the desperate echo of my name.

Flailing for stability his hand grips my bicep, his fingers flexed into my skin. I slide my hand against the trail of hair on his thighs, tracing ever so slowly upward. My name comes in a dangerous plea from gritted teeth - pulling me closer to him. Quickly my hand curves around his cock, smoothing the precum against his heated member before twisting in strokes. Bound by sensation he rocks into me as I surround him. The syllables of my name from his lips begin to soften and blur and eventually all that comes are wet vowels in that gorgeous tone.

Listening to the heat of his desire I trace my hand around a tightening ball, cupping and rolling at the sensitivity. Keeping him lost in the pleasure of my tongue I capture his moan as my hand leaves him. Delicately I trail a finger against the smooth warm dent of his gorgeous arse.

His moan of my name echoes through my every cell as I begin to pull away from him.

"Damn it, Christian, please?" His voice comes unbelievably dark and unbreakably rough.

I press my smirk against the globe of his arse.

"Please what?" I smile, moving my hand to cup air against his heated member. He cants into my touch but I just widen my hand causing only the lightest of touches.

"Don't…_tease_."

So completely on fire he flinches against my laugh echoing from his skin.

"But that's where all the fun is," I say melting my words against his skin.

I capture the softness of his arse between my teeth. His longing hiss echoes through the air.

I push myself up on one arm to gaze at him once again. What I see spreads smouldering pins and needles against my body. Filling my foolish mind with the idea that this is important, that, perhaps, he reaches this liberty and confidence inside just me. His fingers are curving strokes around his hardened cock, weeping in anticipation. His eyes flash open and fill with guilt as he catches me watching. Then his gaze maps my features. At my barely hidden desire a smile forms behind those mysterious eyes - wiping all trace of anything but the deepest passion. He traps his lip between his teeth, over his moan, as he quickens the pump of his hand. His eyes never breaking contact with mine. I can't forbid myself to hope that he does this only for me.

With his pace fast, I see his irises flashing ebony and I shatter. In a single second I force him to lie flat on the bed, boxing my hips over his, gripping his hands within my own. The feeling of burning as our chests collide is barely perceptible over the tightness of longing. Finally in control I move his hands up to my wall, pressing them flat against the wooden headboard. He cants his hips for my contact but I press my hand against a thigh, for now refusing him. I press my lips closed against his and he moans at the slightest of kisses.

"Stop," I growl, not moving my mouth from his.

"Do you really think I'm not going to take you?" I ask, my eyes searching the depth of his ebony world.

"Do you think I've forgotten how amazing you look when you give it all to me?" His eyes slide shut as my words flash through him.

"That there's been a single moment when I've looked at you and not thought about it?" As the confession lingers in the air I press my hips lightly against his, causing the smallest of touches between our desperate cocks. His eyes slam open, my name falling from his lips.

"You're mine tonight," I promise.

I let my teeth tug at his ear lobe and revel in the flash of heated breath against my skin.

"Just give me a second, and…" I capture his smile as I whisper licentious thought into his skin, "…decide whether you're going to have me, or you'll let me have you; cos, when I get back…there's no more playing."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: OK so this is it, the last chapter, sorry about the wait it took a while to get how I wanted it. **

**Just a little warning that because of the time setting there is a little bit of h/c at the end but then this is Chryed, so my couple of lines barely fits on the radar of what can be defined as Chryed angst!**

**Thanks to everyone who read this and thanks to all reviewers for your wonderful words, it's lovely to know you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

X_X

I feel the trail of his eyes as I walk away and tense my arse in response, practically feeling his smile spread. Within the bathroom, collecting the essentials, I avoid mirrors to enjoy the prevailing way he made me feel - gorgeous despite the tarnish. The mouthwash replaces his darkened taste with mint.

As I saunter back into the bedroom I lean my arms against the doorframe - taking a moment. I watch him because somebody should let him know how beautiful he is; and I read him because no matter how well I get to know his body his mind remains off limits, and I memorise him because I know this is for one evening and tomorrow he will be gone.

He's moved, his legs now bent together as he sits up, closing himself against me. His fingers play absentmindedly in the barrier of my summer sheets. I curse the part of me that wouldn't kiss him with taste still inside me. He was so heated before, but if he's cooled again, lost the place where he lets himself be free, I can't keep fighting this.

My thoughts are silenced as he sees me, that wide smile spreading. His eyes hold mine, golden and luxurious, piercing as he watches me take every step toward him. There's no fear or hesitation in his gaze, the wicked ebony lust has calmed, he just looks purely content. I let that thought carry my grin, ignore it's effect on my heart.

I sit on the bed to welcome our kiss, licking against his soft heated lips before searching for admittance. My hand curls around his head, smoothing the wayward curls. His fingers wrap in-between mine and, stealing a breath from my lips, he lowers my hand toward his cock. Silently he begs me for a deeper touch.

He speaks low against my lips, "I want you. To take me."

His voice trembles, but there's determination within his words, an aftertaste like a future promise, and his eyes watch my lips smile.

"…If that's alright with you?" His darkened world flashes with fun, teasing my response.

"Yeah I think I can just about manage that," I nod and sweet confident laughter carries in the nights air.

I steal the notes of lightness from his lips, replacing it with a long drawn sigh of passion, as my hand cups hard around his swelling cock. He keens my name, his head slams back against my headboard but his gaze never leaves mine, drawing desire from our connection.

I slide both hands between his thighs, down and up, brushing the side of his cock as I open him. He lets me move him and unwrap him with not one ounce of resistance. He takes my breath away as he stays supple and open and heated.

With a kiss I lean into his hard exquisite torso, resting him slowly against the bed. But as our chests align my bruises burn and he senses the tension in my body. He pulls away, our eyes greet with care.

"Maybe we should…"

My index finger against his lips is his silencer, nothing is going to stop me from taking what is mine.

"Lie on your side," I request

He rolls his eyes laughing in protest.

"Is there _anything_ that prevents you from having sex?"

Despite his words, his eager body gives in as he moves slowly down the bed.

As he shifts around my hand cups his hip, preventing him from breaking eye contact.

"Face toward me?" I ask, I need to learn him coming undone.

He lies, his dark body flushed against my sheets, his curls messed against my pillow. His golden eyes spark and shine, his lips part for breath - he is a sight to behold as he drinks in the movements of a condom sheathing my cock. His clear desire shoots lust through my veins.

I shuck down the bed a little further than him, leaning my weight on one arm. As I settle against him from head to toe, my touch bids his strong thigh's wrap around my waist. When I move to prepare him his fingers curve my chin and he stirs ever nearer - asking for my kiss.

The caress from his lips is soft and slow, like if things were hungrier we would both break. With generous lube my fingers breach him, moving slowly. For once I have no desire to rush. I would stay like this forever.

Pulling away to see him, I curve my other hand around his cheek. Needing to know every inch of him. I run my hand from his chin, down his long neck, mapping his perfect body. My thumb nips the bud of his hardened nipple, and I watch his eyes flash. When he dissolves within me he wraps a hand through my hair, pushing his lips onto mine. He kisses me until I feel his chest tighten with yearned breath, and then he kisses me more - like right now I'm all that he needs and he won't be able to get enough.

Keeping my fingers preparing our pleasure, my other hand continues it's path down his silken torso. I find his desperate need, swelling between the flush press of heated skin. Our lips finally part, his head snapping back for a libidinous groan, as I run my thumb along the taut vein on the underside of his cock. Then I move my hand lower, pressing a thumb against his perineum before trailing the hair against his propped thigh. As my fingers slide from him a moan of protest is prepared against his dark lips, but it is forgotten as his eyes connect with mine. The power in his gaze spreads a quake through my raw sensitised nerves. No-one has ever looked at me so deeply before. Any emotions of fearful exposure are fleeting as I loose myself against our bodies' connection.

At the tilt of my hips he permits my entrance. Working purely on sensation I press into him and our cocks unite tightly. I lose him against our desire and his hand runs quickly, shakingly, down my torso. His blunt nails nipping the skin. There's a moment of my pain and a flash of his guilt as without control his hand brushes against my bruise. But I take his hand in mine, bringing it toward my mouth, exploring each digit slowly. He keens with wide eyed wonder as I slide his index finger between my teeth. I lick at the taste of him, noting how his hands carry my presence. Remembering and relishing his evening's touch.

I drink in his flushed body, feeling each hard curve pressed against mine.

I move closer toward him, aligning my cock, teasing sensation throughout him. "Ready?"

His answer is whispered so deep that I can hear it perfectly for years afterward - the memory driving my cock to stone for months; the words forming a bitter underlining to the heartbroken doubt.

"Christian, what you do to me…I don't think I will ever be ready for the way that I want you."

At that moment, lost in desire, my lips lift a smirk. My response to the closest I've ever had to dirty talk passing those innocent lips.

"And how's that?" I tease, always looking for more.

He ducks his head into my neck as heat suffices his cheeks. It takes a moment, but I feel the change in his smile. He nips at my skin, before giving me his words. Words that are some of the most innocent I've ever heard in this position, whispered almost imperceptibly. But they come from his mouth and I cling to the trail of his darkened voice as it pours like pure sex throughout me.

"Let me show you."

Within the lingering promise, I forget myself and push inside him quickly, grasping my cock to allow me deep.

He gasps as I enter him. I sense his fight against the pain of completion.

His eyes fill with an apology but I prevent the words.

"It's OK," I whisper, before finding his kiss.

As our kiss lasts softly, I gently move myself inside him. Slowly allowing him to sense me and accept me. A moan lingers from my lips as I sense his muscles relax, giving into sensation. We fit perfectly.

Our lips part as I withdraw to push inside him once again. His eyes flash onyx, and his fingers wrap my hair. With the next thrust I feel his heated cock pull against our tight bodies. With the third he keens unbiddenly into the nights air.

I keep a slow steady rhythm as I fade into him. Sounds of our love filling any space in my room. Heat surrounds us, absorbing us into sensation, framing us together inside libidinous passion. His nails leave crescent-shaped shards of pain in my scalp, like he's clinging to prevent a fall, it only works to sensitise me deeper to him. His cock grows too hot between our bodies and he shifts against me, closer. He consumes each of my senses, burning through my veins.

He's so tight and so open, that all too soon claws of completion skitter around my balls. I force the thought away - determined to last until he's had his fill.

He arches his long neck up. His hair spills down his back. I pull at the softness. Nipping and licking and sucking at his neck. I crave to gain all of him. As I bite against his pulse point, a whimper emits his lips. I know his cock throbs with tempted climax.

I push into him, and he accepts all that I am. I stop fully within although my hips burn to chase.

As his eyes collide with mine, the gold steals my breath.

"Don't hold back." I ask with a whisper.

He lifts himself from my cock to slam into me. The presence of him reverberating across my body, fracturing my mind. Our fire sparks and burn in those beautiful eyes. Desire banishes any thought as our bodies chase.

He shatters fast against me, his seed warm between us. His muscles grip for my completion drawing out my surrender.

Our hearts slow together as we cool.

For half a moment I think of moving within him again, not letting our perfection slip from my reach. But my body resists the impulse, exhaustion echoing through my bones. Eventually he slides from me, his feet finding the floor to move away from me. I feel the moment his body leaves my bed as I freeze against my cooling sheets.

Silently, he heads for the bathroom. I'm alone once more.

My muscles burn and my bruises pound. The hair against my back stands up and I struggle to breathe, that cold sense of dread creeps up my spine. My weakness appears in the shake of my hands, as I rid myself of any evidence that I ever forgot the presence of the other.

His body walks back into my bedroom but I know that he's already gone. His eyes, now black and barrierd, say his thoughts are surrounded in the guilt of home and family.

He reaches for his jeans. "I better-"

"Yeah."

I crawl between my sheets with the preparation of nightmares flashing in front of my eyes - the burn of an unknown fist; the crack of a strangers foot.

"Sy…"

I don't realise that I have made my lips move, or that I've asked my voice to carry such a pleading tone. At my weakness I'm ashamed.

He turns, half dressed and confused. His shirt hangs from his fingers.

I force a smile and shake my head nonchalantly.

"Good night," I say.

Feigning sleep that I know will not come I push my head into my pillow. The smell of Syed arrests my senses and I lean into it, closing my eyes, yearning to hold him within. In flesh he abandons me, in sensation he will remain. He will remain, at least until the unwanted reminders and unforgiving awareness of another become too much.

I feel a touch against my back and impulsively my muscles jump into fight. I whip my head to see the intruder to my memories. Only him, of course Syed, guilt clouding him as he notes my response to his aim of comfort.

My smile grows as I let my gaze slide down his bare chest, his shirt has dropped to the floor. I fold my hand within his and his eyes find me once more.

"What?" I ask.

His eyes flash around the room, shyness creeping in. Then his gaze finds mine and his lips curve, slowly confident.

"Don't hold back," he shrugs.

I trace my thumb along his lips, silently thanking him. My touch is steady despite the rush of my heart beating with a different purpose.

"Stay?" I suggest, the immaturity in my voice denying my years. "Just for a minute. Just to talk."

"Talk?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah…or we could just sit in awkward silence if you'd rather."

He laughs sweetly, shucking off his shoes and sitting up against my wall, bending his legs under himself.

"What do you want me to talk to you about? Football scores? Unit orders? Hair gel?"

"You! just you."

His eyes trace over my body, confusion lingering in them as if surprised anyone would show an interest.

"I don't even know where to begin," he insists.

I lean against him, my head rests against his denim lap as I pull his arm around me. His position remains stiff, softening while I stroke my thumb across his hand.

"Have you not done this before?"

"What?"

"Talked to someone in bed."

He coughs, his cheeks flush. I feel his embarrassment rush through me - I'm such a fool, of course he hasn't.

"I guess…I've done it with my brother," he informs me. Innocence covering stupidity.

"Pillow talk, Syed," I whisper. I flirt in that way I know will remove the stain my tactless words left.

His gaze tugs at mine. I pull at his arm so that he lies flat next to me.

"You know, chat as you cool down from the passion you've just shared with someone."

The ardent way he looks at me makes my heart rush and intuitively my body finds his once again.

"The heart-pounding," I press a kiss against his bare chest. "sweating," I push his gorgeous curls from his face "cock-" I reach down.

"No, I guess I haven't" he laughs, trapping my hand in his. I move the other one to complete my mission but he soon stops me. He laughs freely as he turns to lie above me he holding my wrists.

"I thought you didn't wanna do this anymore," He says.

I press up into him as I nip at his neck, showing him that a man can change his mind. Appreciating the, now familiar, miniscule signs of his body sensing mine.

"I thought you were going to sleep, I'm way too tired," is the next protest to fall from his lips, despite his cock warming, behind his denim, between us.

To convince him my mouth finds his ear, nipping at the edge before sucking on the lobe. I press my bare skin against him knowing he can feel every inch.

"Christian!" He moans, his voice is breathy but determined, and enough to show me to pull away.

"Stop it or I'll go home." He warns, as he climbs off me.

"OK." I say, moving away from him.

There's a soft saddened sigh from those lips and I realise he's preparing to leave dejected. My foolish heart flutters - he's not here purely for physical need.

I grab for his arm, before reality can erase the happiness.

I pull him to land against me, "don't go home."

As the words fall from my lips his smile is breathtaking and I can't resist a soft slow taste.

I pull his arm over me as I lie on my undamaged side.

He talks me to dreams, knowing intuitively what I need from him. He tells me the sweet stories, the childhood adventures, the teenage misdemeanours. He carefully avoids the secrets, the mentions of family, and anything that could bind our raw, post-coital, hearts too closely together. He stays as I drift off and holds my hand after the first nightmare. He stays until the very last moment, until he can no longer. And he leaves with a promising kiss.


End file.
